


Morning Light

by mishatalkstoomuch



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: 4am-7am is the only time my brain functions, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Gay Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kierark, M/M, Mieran, My First Smut, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishatalkstoomuch/pseuds/mishatalkstoomuch
Summary: "In later times, Mark would not remember what he himself had cried or whispered in that moment, but he would not forget Kieran’s words, tumbling from the prince’s lips as he sank down into Mark’s embrace, for it would not be the last time Mark ever heard them.'You will never be nothing to me, Mark Blackthorn,' Kieran said. 'For you are all on this earth and under this sky that I do love.'"-Cassandra ClareTakes place the morning after Mark and Kieran get together in "Stars to Burn" (you don't have to have read the story to understand this, but I'll link it in the notes)





	Morning Light

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer the First: You know the drill. Cassie Clare owns the world and the characters, I own the dirty mind and the keyboard.
> 
> Disclaimer the Second: I’ve never written smut before, but I did write one truly strange Mortal Instruments fanfic while the Shadowhunter Academy stories were still being published, in which Isabelle had a meltdown over a letter from Simon and Alec was a Helpful Big Brother™. It was all quite angst-ridden and OOC and I now have no idea where it is or what it’s called but I’m sure if you’re very determined you can dig it up over on ff.net.
> 
> Now, for those of you who don’t already know, the lovely lady Cassie wrote us a short fluffy, angsty, mildly smutty Kierark story over on her tumblr. It is wonderful and perfect and exactly what I’ve been longing for and personally, I wanted (needed?) more. Hence this fic. Oh, and if you’re looking for some good old-fashioned pwp, just skip the first 500 words or so. I promise you won’t get lost.

Takes place on the morning after [ Stars to Burn ](http://cassandraclare.tumblr.com/post/163671615674/stars-to-burn-kieranmark-rating-r-a-short)

 

_“You will never be nothing to me, Mark Blackthorn,” Kieran said. “For you are all on this earth and under this sky that I do love.”_

And he had meant it. There was no one else for him now. The death of his mother had left Kieran utterly alone. Hearing Mark speak of his family, of his siblings and his now-dead but once very alive parents, brought to mind the faintest memory of warm arms and soft smiles, of blue hair cascading down around a face he had to fight to remember. It made him ache with longing.

Kieran gazed over at Mark, his Mark, whose hair shone like the finest white gold as the first rays of sun broke through the cracks of their makeshift shelter. He thought back to the night before, of all they had said, of all they had done, and found himself grinning wildly. The two of them hadn’t even bothered to pull their clothes back on last night, which meant that there was now a very naked Mark snuggled up against Kieran’s chest, breathing softly against his collarbone and sending shivers up and down his spine.

Kieran snaked his arm around Mark’s waist and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Mark mumbled in his sleep and wriggled in closer. Kieran laughed softly at his lover’s movements. Lover? Was that what they were now? Kieran certainly hoped so. It had not been so long ago that Mark was a stranger to him, and yet he knew in his heart that he had never loved anyone so much as Mark, nor would he. The thought scared him sometimes. He had no idea how long Mark might live. A half-blood Hunter was unprecedented, and it was Kieran’s deepest fear that Mark’s Nephilim blood would somehow counteract the immortality granted to other Hunters. What if Mark grew old and died and Kieran was left alone again?

Kieran forced himself to pull his thoughts away from that dark place. Mark was here now, and Mark was his. And after all, did his mortality not make their love all the more precious?

Mark had caught Kieran’s eye from the very beginning--because he was beautiful, yes, but also because he was strong. The other Hunters called him elf-shot, and it had only taken one fight with some wayward demons for Kieran to see why. Mark in battle was a fearsome sight. His Shadowhunter training coupled with his faerie grace made him the fiercest fighter Kieran had ever met. And yet… Kieran traced the scars that mottled Mark’s back and thought of the first night they had truly met, how he had found Mark shaking on the ground, soaking in a pool of his own blood. Kieran had always thought of Mark as powerful, adamantine. That night Kieran had learned that he was also deeply, irreparably broken. He remembered Mark’s whimpers, his cries of pain as Kieran cleaned and sanitized his wounds. He remembered the feeling of Mark’s fingernails as they had dug into Kieran’s skin, how he hadn’t even noticed the physical pain through the pain of watching Mark in agony, how even now Kieran bore five little crescent-shaped scars on his upper arm.

Kieran was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when Mark’s breathing changed. At some point he simply glanced down at Mark’s face and saw two bright blue and yellow orbs staring up at him. Kieran smiled, and Mark beamed back at him. “What’re you thinking about?” Mark asked sleepily.

Kieran leaned down and pressed their foreheads together before replying, “You.”

Mark’s smile grew even wider, and Kieran felt more than saw him place his hand on Kieran’s cheek and gently tug him into a kiss. “I love you,” Mark murmured against his mouth.

“I love you,” Kieran murmured back, and then, unable to help himself, he began kissing his way along Mark’s jaw to the side of his neck and then the base of his throat.

Mark laughed, and Kieran felt it reverberating against his lips. “Aren’t you _tired?_ ” Mark demanded.

He supposed it was a fair question, given how little sleep they had gotten last night, but Kieran just smiled and continued kissing a path downwards along Mark’s chest. He let his teeth graze over one of Mark’s nipples, eliciting a gasp from the Shadowhunter. Kieran felt the evidence of Mark’s pleasure pressing softly into his stomach, so he trailed his hand down Mark’s side--a movement that made his lover shutter--and gently brushed his fingers along Mark’s length.

Mark gasped, “Kier,” and when Kieran looked up, Mark had his eyes closed and the back of his wrist across his mouth.

Kieran grinned and began to stroke him softly. The hand that Mark wasn’t using to stifle his sounds of pleasure found Kieran’s free one, and he was struck by how much more intimate it felt with their fingers interlocked. Kieran squeezed his lover’s hand and shifted himself down lower. He continued to stroke Mark softly as he began peppering his lover’s hipbones with kisses. Mark had begun thrusting softly, probably unconsciously, into Kieran’s hand by the time Kieran finally took Mark’s head into his mouth. Mark gasped, and the hand that had been shoved into his mouth flew down to grasp Kieran’s hair as he circled Mark lazily with his tongue.

“By the Angel,” Mark whispered, his broken voice going straight to Kieran’s growing erection.

Kieran began to bob his head slowly, eliciting noises from Mark that at any other time might have made even Kieran blush. Now they only served to spur him onward, speeding up until he could barely keep up with himself and then slowing down again, all to the delicious sounds of Mark’s moans. After a few minutes of this, Kieran felt an insistent tug on his hair. He pulled off of Mark and allowed his lover to pull him up into a kiss.

“Something the matter?” he asked, his voice rasping slightly from having Mark down his throat.

Mark hummed against Kieran’s lips and shook his head. Kieran briefly considered asking Mark why he’d wanted to stop, but then quickly abandoned this idea as Mark’s fingers began to roam his body, tracing the outlines of his bones through his skin, grabbing gently at his hips and the curves of his ass. Mark pressed up against him and rolled them over, so that Kieran’s back was flat to the ground and Mark was on top, smiling sweetly down at him. Mark slowly began to return Kieran’s attention from before, peppering him with soft, sweet, teasing kisses that made Kieran’s toes curl. He ran his fingers along the smooth lines of Mark’s stomach and let his head fall back in pleasure. So absorbed was he in the moment that he hadn’t noticed one of Mark’s hands disappear behind his lover’s back. That is, until Mark groaned against his chest and Kieran’s eyes flew downward, to where Mark had been fingering himself in his perfect little ass.

Kieran growled and grabbed Mark’s hips, yanking him down so that his weight was entirely on Kieran. Ignoring Mark’s gasp of surprise, he hissed, “I thought _you_ had never done this before.”

Mark, now seeming to realize what Kieran had been reacting to, smirked and said, “I grew up in LA, remember? City of angels? Not so angelic. Besides,” he added, grinding down against Kieran, “it’s not like I’ve never done this by myself.”

 _That_ was too much. Kieran shoved himself up into a sitting position so that Mark was straddling his lap and began kissing his lover fiercely. Mark moaned into his mouth and kissed back as though his life depended on it, wrapping both of his arms as tightly around Kieran as was physically possible. Kieran rocked himself upwards slightly, and grazed the opening that Mark had been loosening for him moments before.

“Please,” Mark whispered in his ear. “Please, Kier, I want this. I want you.”

Kieran hooked his arms under Mark’s knees and gently pushed him back until Mark was the one on the ground and Kieran was propped up over him. Mark gazed trustingly up at him as Kieran softly rubbed his perineum and circled his hole before pressing a finger in. Mark gasped at the contact. He was already fairly loose, but given that they had no real lubricant Kieran wanted to make absolutely sure that he wasn’t going to be hurting him. He pressed a second finger in, stroking slowly until he pressed into a spot that made Mark hiss and arch his back.

“There?” Kieran asked, pressing into it again.

Mark nodded vehemently, and Kieran continued to stroke the spot over and over, causing Mark to cry out with pleasure. Slowly Kieran slipped in a third finger and began scissoring his fingers, stretching Mark out until he seemed ready. Then Kieran withdrew his fingers, lifted up Mark’s hips, and slowly, gently, pressed into him.

This time Kieran wasn’t sure whose mouth the noises were coming from. He hadn’t realized just _how much_ he had been waiting for this until he was surrounded by Mark, pushing deeper until he was all the way in. Mark reached up and pulled him down for a kiss, and after a moment Kieran began to rock his hips softly, thrusting as shallowly as possible so that Mark could get used to the motion.

Once Mark seemed to adjust, Kieran began to slide himself in and out, forcing himself to go as slowly as possible. It was torturous, moving so slowly that he felt his whole body shake as he forced himself not to speed up, to keep this agonizing pace. He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to restrain himself from doing what his body wanted, what his body was used to doing. How often had he fucked boys, girls, everyone and anyone in between and left them spent and senseless, sexually satisfied but wondering why exactly they had agreed to it in the first place? Kieran refused to do that now. Not with Mark.

So he continued to torture himself, pushing in and pulling out as slowly as he could manage while Mark gasped and cursed beneath him. They made eye contact for a moment, enough for Kieran to see that Mark’s pupils were blown wide and his lips were parted captivatingly. Kieran pushed into him and pulled out again, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face down into his own shoulder. Kieran stilled as he felt a hand on his cheek, ever so gently turning his head so that he was face-to-face with Mark. The Shadowhunter stroked his cheek, running his thumb over Kieran’s lips. Kieran moaned as Mark’s hands traced their way down Kieran’s sides and cupped his ass. Mark grinned wickedly up at him and suddenly Kieran felt himself slam into Mark as his lover simultaneously pulled him forward and rocked his own hips up to meet him. Kieran gasped and felt his arms collapse from the shock of sudden pleasure. He felt teeth graze his ear and then Mark’s breath, hot on his neck as he hissed, “I am not made of glass, Kier. You will not break me.”

Kieran pulled away from him slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. Mark’s expression was playful, but serious enough that Kieran could tell that he meant it. He bent down to kiss him, to wrap his arms around Mark’s waist and pull him as close as was physically possible. He felt Mark wrap his legs around Kieran’s hips and he began to move again, starting slowly like before but this time working his way up to a rhythm that left them both moaning in satisfaction. Mark was gasping words -- Kieran’s name, mostly, along with a variety of colorful language Kieran had never heard him use before. Kieran found himself stuttering out words, too, in English at first, but then in his native Faerie as logical thought became all but impossible. _“Fuck, I love you. Gods above I love you, Mark Blackthorn. Of everything on the earth and under the sky, I love you.”_ And though he knew that there was no logical way that Mark understood him, though he had heard Mark’s atrocious attempts at Faerie in a Seelie dialect that Kieran had never before encountered, though Mark himself had admitted to possessing the functional vocabulary of a two-year-old, when Mark looked at him, Kieran was sure, positively certain, that Mark had understood him.

At some point in all of this, Mark had begun stroking himself, and when Kieran realized this he quickly reached between them and began methodically stroking Mark in time with his own thrusts. Mark whined and bucked his hips up, causing Kieran to gasp. A stream of _“Fuck, Kieran, yes, Angel, holy fucking_ fuck, _Kieran,_ ” came pouring out of his mouth, and Kieran nuzzled Mark’s neck and began to suck the skin there into his mouth, leaving small, colorful bruises in his wake.

With every passing moment, Mark seemed to come more and more undone. His head was thrown back, sweat beaded his brow, and his soft whines were driving Kieran to insanity. Kieran could feel his own movements becoming more erratic as Mark writhed beneath him. Kieran buried his face deep in Mark’s neck as their movements devolved into rocking back and forth. Mark cried out, his back arching and his chest pressing tightly against Kieran’s and Kieran felt a hot, wet warmth spread across Kieran’s hand and both their stomachs. Kieran continued to stroke him until Mark pulled his hand away and kissed it, pulling Kieran’s fingers into his mouth and sucking his own seed off of them.

Kieran moved to pull out, but Mark stopped him with a hand on his ass. “I want--” He blushed up at Kieran. “I want you to… finish. Like this. Inside me.”

Kieran groaned and nuzzled Mark’s neck as he began to thrust again. This time, it took only a minute or so before all of it, the friction, Mark’s murmurs, his fingers ghosting along Kieran’s body, pushed Kieran over the edge. He felt his muscles grow tighter and tighter before finally releasing. With a final thrust he buried himself in Mark and came, loudly.

Kieran’s whole body was trembling from exertion when he finally slipped out of Mark and settled into his arms. Mark was tracing invisible lines up and down Kieran’s back and whispering endearments into his hair. Kieran found he lacked the energy to do anything but blindly repeat Mark’s _I love you's_ and snuggle closer into his lover’s arms.

And then, of course, Gwyn’s horn sounded, and the two had to scramble to clean themselves up, pull on their clothes, and break camp before the other Hunters were ready to ride out. Kieran felt an odd mix of pride and guilt when he saw Mark limping, but Mark only grinned at his fretting and said that he’d “just have to ride with you today. You know, so I don’t fall off,” to which Kieran had snorted, though he hadn’t moved to argue. Mark only ever rode with him when one of them was grievously ill or injured, and Kieran looked forward to being able to enjoy the experience without having to worry that one of them was actually going to fall off.

Nobody said anything as Kieran pulled Mark up behind him onto Windspear, though Kieran had to wonder if this was out of respect or because they had all just assumed they were already fucking. Kieran suspected the latter. He muttered something about wishing he and Mark could just be alone again and heard Mark laugh behind him.

“Just wait until tonight,” he purred, and Kieran felt a shiver run up and down his spine, followed by a sudden warmth of pleasant realization.

From now on, he would always have Mark to look forward to. Tonight, and tomorrow, and every morning and every night afterwards. It would all be theirs and theirs alone.

For the first time since he’d joined the Hunt, Kieran rode off that morning with a smile on his face, Mark's arms wrapped firmly around his waist.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this between the hours of four and seven a.m. a few nights ago while I was waiting for the AO3 invitation email thingie. It was unedited and unbetad and honestly I don't know what I've done but I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave comments and kudos, I'd love to hear what you guys have to say (especially if it's constructive criticism).


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